“I want my old life back, the one where I didn’t kill anybody and I could still afford sushi,” laments Mir Dar (Asif Ali), a man caught between the horrors of crime and the crunch of his last tuna roll. His utter despair contrasts sharply with his gold-chain-draped older brother Raj (Saagar Shaikh), who obliviously offers him a lollipop. Because nothing screams maturity quite like candy in the face of a crime wave.
These two privileged Pakistani American brothers are not exactly cut out for a life of crime, and yet, the universe has drawn a different map for them after the unexpected demise of their Philadelphia convenience-store-tycoon father, Baba (Iqbal Theba). The inventor of the Mega Glug 140-ounce coffee cup—a caffeinated dream for insomniacs everywhere—Baba had a second career in tax evasion and, oh yes, cocaine smuggling. A family heist gone wrong, if you will. With FBI agents knocking down their door, they’re now stuck using their deli as a front, rubbing elbows with a Peruvian cartel, the Italian Mafia, and a peculiar amount of expired Tastykakes. Welcome to capitalist dysfunction at its best!
Mir, the classic overachiever, has zero clue about his father’s side hustle. All he wanted was to be the CEO of DarCo and, likely, the family’s golden child. “When our father passes, Mir’s like, ‘Who am I when this guy’s gone? My whole life has been to be somebody he would like,’” reveals Ali, making us all question our life choices as well. Meanwhile, Raj is just looking for “peace, love, and sex,” a trifecta that seems far removed from the drug trade. Shaikh adds that series creator Abdullah Saeed initially wanted to play Raj himself, which explains why this character somehow feels like he’s perpetually stoned while simultaneously squeezing the joy out of being a low-level criminal.
Lucky for them, the inadequacy of their criminal minds is offset by a not-so-innocent Auntie Lucky (Poorna Jagannathan). Think of her as the sharp-witted matriarch who has been in the criminal game longer than most of us have dealt with Wi-Fi connectivity issues. “I prepared by watching The Sopranos and The Real Housewives of Orange County,” she quips with a grin, proving that the line between glamour and crime is thinner than a slice of prosciutto.
As if the stakes weren’t already laughably high, the duo faces off against a Mexican cartel looking to collect a mind-boggling $10 million debt. With their backs against the wall, the brothers and Aunt Lucky frantically expand their distribution territory—because who doesn’t love a little last-minute logistics? Enter Mafia boss Chickie Lozano (Kevin Corrigan), a man whose face looks like it has been chiseled out of regret. “We’re almost getting killed every day,” Lucky observes, sounding unbothered by the notion that her life resembles a chaotic video game on hard mode.
Then there’s Ahmad (Brian George), the office petty tyrant who believes he’s entitled to run the criminal enterprise as if it’s a bake sale. Thanks to his scheming, Aunt Lucky finds herself embroiled in a battle for supremacy that rivals any reality show meltdown. And just when you think they’ve hit rock bottom, they learn that the FBI—yes, those well-meaning folks with badges—are not convinced by the family’s “we’re just deli owners” narrative.
In a delightful turn of irony, a mismatched duo of determined FBI agents takes the stage, like a bizarre buddy cop film that will never see the light of day. Agent Mercer (Alexandra Ruddy) contends with her self-important boss, Director Simpson (Tim Baltz). Together, they form the world’s least competent crime-fighting team, sniffing out secrets like bloodhounds on a mediocre scent trail. Ultimately, the brothers are caught in a whirlwind of chaos where even the stoner’s goofiness pivots to vengeance. Just when you think things can’t get juicier, Mir’s elaborate wedding is doomed to spiral into an unforgettable disaster.
With ten episodes packed like a convenience store aisle during a sale, “Deli Boys” promises surprises around every corner. From Tan France showing off his dramatic chops as a London gangster to the discovery of Baba’s mind-boggling ’70s-themed secret apartment, the series invites viewers to indulge in a fever dream that resembles your wildest late-night escapade—and much like those nights, absolute mayhem ensues. Who knew that navigating the criminal underworld could be so hysterically entertaining?
